


how to take care of your time lord

by lauraxtennant



Series: Ten/Rose Collection 2016 [1]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-26
Updated: 2016-01-26
Packaged: 2018-05-16 11:49:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5827513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lauraxtennant/pseuds/lauraxtennant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor has a cold, and a secret, and Rose is determined to both look after him and to discover what that secret is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	how to take care of your time lord

**Author's Note:**

> For suavelydressedbrit's prompt on tumblr - thanks! :)

“Right! Where would you like to go today, Rose Tyler?”

Rose glanced up from the article she was reading about a famous Graxicon artist. They’d accidentally landed in the middle of her exhibition at some spacestation gallery last week, and her work had awed Rose. She was a fascinating woman, too - well-travelled and smart and cool - and Rose had been devouring any information she could about her, including that which could be found in the gossip columns of her favourite galaxy-wide magazine.

“Doctor, how many times do I have to tell you, we’re not going anywhere ‘til you’re better.”

“I’m fine,” he insisted, before fishing into his pocket for a hanky and blowing his nose loudly. “How about we go meet Ms Donocapachia, eh?” 

Rose was tempted - that was the name of the artist she’d been admiring - but he sounded bloody awful, all bunged up and coughing every five seconds, and apart from the fact he clearly needed rest and looking after, she also didn’t really fancy meeting her new hero alongside someone who was likely to sneeze on her. That would be _so_ embarrassing.

She shook her head at him. “You’ve got a bad cold; what you need is some soup and some sleep, not an adventure.”

“Time Lords don’t get colds,” he scoffed at her, leaning against the console. 

Rose turned back to her magazine. “Your nose is dripping.”

He sighed. “All right, I might have a bit of a cold. But what harm will a quick trip do? I can’t stop and mope about just because I’ve got a little sniffle.”

She lifted her head and stared at him.

“What?” he asked, defensively.

“Firstly, you kept us in the vortex for three whole days a fortnight ago, just because someone insulted your hair.”

“That wasn’t - that wasn’t the reason!”

“Secondly, when I got the flu last year, you wouldn’t let me leave my bedroom for over a week!”

“Ah, but that’s the flu. That’s much more serious that this tiny, insignificant little - ” He broke off to sneeze three times in succession. “- cold. Especially for your fragile human body.”

Rose rolled her eyes. “Can you at least let me get you some medicine?”

“The cold stuff we’ve got in the infirmary for you won’t work on me.” He waved his hand dismissively. “I’ll be fine.”

“You look really hot, Doctor.”

He adjusted his tie. “Why, thank you.”

“No, you muppet, I mean you look overheated. Take some layers off, for god’s sake - you’ve probably got a temperature.”

“Oh.” He slid his jacket off, and appeared to not have the energy to pick it up when it fell to the grating. He closed his eyes for a few moments and Rose noticed that opening them again took great effort. 

She set aside her magazine, and stood up. “Come on.”

“What?”

“I’m taking you to bed.” She linked her arm through his and pulled him to a standing position.

“You do realise how unfair it is that you say that to me _now.”_

“What you on about? Come on, walk.” They began making their way out of the console room and down the corridor.

“Nothing,” he muttered, sounding despondent. 

“What do you fancy for lunch? Some nice chicken soup?”

“You don’t need to treat me like a child, Rose,” he protested, before letting out a hacking cough. She patted his back. He sniffled. “Some chicken soup would be nice, yes. Thanks.”

“No probs.” Rose steered him into his bedroom. “You get into some pjs, I’ll get the food.”

“Rose?” he called out, as he sat on the edge of his bed.

She stuck her head back around the doorframe. “Mm?”

“Can you get me a banana, too?”

“Sure - ”

“And some tea.”

“Coming right up - ”

“And maybe some custard creams?”

“I’ll bring a whole selection of treats for you, don’t worry,” she laughed, and finally left for the galley.

::

When she returned to his bedroom with a tray full of his requests, he was curled up under the covers half-dressed, his red, sticky nose pressed into the pillow. His eyes fluttered open as she sat down beside him.

“I can bring this back later if you want to sleep first,” she murmured, reaching out a hand to stroke his hair away from his forehead.

The Doctor smiled sleepily at her, propping himself up against the pillows. “Nah, I’ll eat first, ta.”

Rose transferred the tray from her lap to his, and watched him for a few moments. “When was the last time you slept, Doctor?”

He shrugged a shoulder and dipped some bread into his soup. “Oh, I dunno…a few days ago.”

“A few days or a few weeks?”

Sniffing, he failed to answer, instead shoving the bread into his mouth.

“That’s what I thought,” she said, folding her arms. “You’re so run down. You need to give yourself a break, sometimes, you know?”

“I’m fine.”

“Stop saying that, ‘cos you’re clearly not, and I’m worried about you. Why aren’t you sleeping?”

The Doctor glared at her. “I don’t need as much sleep as you lot. Don’t have a go at me just ‘cos I don’t waste a third of my life snoozing.”

Rose stood up, hands on hips. “Look, if you wanna run yourself into the ground, fine. But don’t say I didn’t tell you so when you nod off during an adventure, or get caught by people chasing us ‘cos you’re too sluggish to run away!”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m resting now, aren’t I?”

“Why won’t you tell me what’s wrong?”

“Why do you assume something’s wrong?”

Rose heaved a sigh and sat back down. “Because ever since that night on Krop Tor, you’ve not been sleeping properly, and now you’re ill, and I’m worried.” He was silent, so she continued, “I’ve had nightmares about it, so if that’s what it’s about, then I get it, Doctor. You don’t have to be embarrassed, or something.”

“No, it’s not - ” He paused, running a hand over his face. “I do have nightmares quite often, but that’s not what this is about. I’m used to nightmares, I can deal with nightmares.”

“So you admit something else is going on.”

Obviously playing for time, he took a few more sips of his soup, then blew his nose.

“Doctor,” she prompted, impatiently.

“I miss you,” he said, meeting her gaze finally. His tone was casual, and he gave half a shrug. “That’s all.”

Rose was taken aback. “How d’you mean? We’re together, like, sixteen hours a day.”

“I know. I know. It’s ridiculous, I…” He stared at his soup. “That night - on Krop Tor. We - and now,” he blew out a long breath, “I lay here for hours, trying to sleep, because I know I’m not invulnerable - I know I need it, as much as I wish I didn’t, I know I need to switch off, rest, all that. So I lay here and I stare at that ceiling and I just can’t.”

“So you have, what, insomnia?”

“I suppose. Yes. And I’ve tried all sorts of things to fix it, but, I don’t know, nothing works.”

“And now you’re exhausted.”

“Yeah,” he admitted.

“But what’s this got to do with me?”

He smiled to himself, then rubbed at the back of his neck, embarrassed. He’d stopped eating, so she moved the tray to the free side of the bed. Hoping she wouldn’t catch his germs in doing so, but overwhelmed with the need to be closer to him somehow, she shuffled up the bed a bit and took his hand, stroking her thumb against his.

The Doctor stared at their hands for a little while, then raised his eyes to meet hers. “I sound pathetic,” he murmured, and laughed in a self-deprecating way. “But I - I can’t stop thinking about that night. About how…close, we were.”

Rose ducked her head, smiling into her shoulder for a second as she gathered the right words. She didn’t want to embarrass him further, but, “We kissed.”

“Yes.”

“We’ve kissed before, a couple of times.”

“Not like that. Not wrapped up in each other like that, in a tiny bed, in the dark - ”

“- scared out of our minds,” she interjected, and the shy smile on his face slipped a fraction.

“Was that all it was, then? Out of fear.”

“No. I mean, not for me. But I thought…”

“What did you think?”

“I thought that you didn’t know what to do, to say, to comfort me, so I thought you just, you know. Did that instead.”

He shook his head slightly, but coughed for a few moments before he could respond vocally. “Rose.”

“You’d lost the TARDIS, you were upset, we were stuck, and you never mentioned it again, after. What was I supposed to think?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realise. I thought you knew.”

“Knew?”

The Doctor shifted uncomfortably, and she squeezed his hand in encouragement. “What it meant to me.” 

He scratched at his bare chest absently, and Rose was momentarily distracted from his words by the action. But he soon got her attention back; “To you it probably seems daft, that a bit of a snog and a cuddle could throw me so off kilter, but, you see, as much as we hug and touch and,” he lifted their joined hands in demonstration, “- do this on a daily basis, I haven’t slept next to someone else for…” 

He exhaled roughly, shaking his head, and inexplicably, tears pricked at Rose’s eyes. He continued, “For a long time. And I know it was just sleeping, and it isn’t that I’m, I don’t know, finding some sort of inappropriate sexual element to it, but it _was_ intimate. For me. And having had that, for that night, I just. I don’t know. I miss it. I s’pose it made me realise just how, well, how lonely I’ve been.”

A tear slid down Rose’s cheek and she brushed it aside quickly, embarrassed by her reaction. “You should’ve said,” she whispered, voice croaking.

He chuckled derisively. “What, ‘Rose, sorry to be a pain, but do you mind sharing my bed occasionally so that I stop dwelling all bloody night?’”

“Well, yeah,” she said, nodding. “You could have said that.”

“Like you said before, Rose,” he stopped to sneeze, then continued, “We’re together most of the day already. I can’t ask you to give up something as private as your sleeping time, too.”

“You usually sleep every three or four days, right? That’s not exactly gonna cause me much disruption, is it? Besides. Do you know how long I’ve been trying to get into your bed?” she teased, trying to lighten the mood.

“It is rather comfy,” he remarked, and she raised her eyebrows, and then it dawned on him what she’d really meant, and he laughed. “Oh. Right.”

They stared at each other quietly for a few moments, before Rose ventured, “I don’t know why I didn’t guess, before. You’re so tactile, these days, I should’ve realised.”

“No, I - I’ve obviously just succeeded in my outward display of aloof manliness,” he replied.

“Sure you have, Doctor. Sure. That’ll be it.” She glanced across the bed. “You finish off your snacks to make room for me, I’m gonna go and get into my pjs.”

“You don’t need to get in bed with me, Rose, especially at the moment, with me all snotty and sick.”

“Well, I want to, so there. Though you won’t be getting snogged again ‘til you’re germ-free.” Releasing his hand, she stood up and stretched. “Need me to get you anything else, while I get ready? I dunno, a teddy bear to cuddle for moments when I’m in the loo or something?” she teased.

“No.” He smiled up at her, his eyes shining. “Just you’ll do.”

“All right. Then I’ll be right back.”

Rose didn’t stop grinning the entire way to her bedroom. She reckoned that this sleeping next to the Doctor every four days or so situation would be quite the best thing to happen to their relationship. And it was bewildering to her how he could possibly think she would feel otherwise.


End file.
